"No," he said. "Not now. But presently, when I see you home."
"No. Not even then. Not at all. You mustn't, dear," she whispered.
"I shall."
They sat silent and let the music do with them as it would.
And the sun dropped to the fields and flooded them and sank far away, behind Harrow on the Hill. And they called the children, the tired children, to them and went home.
Stanny had to be carried all the way. He hung on his father's shoulder, utterly limp, utterly helpless, utterly pathetic.
"He's nothing but a baby after all," said Winny.
They were going over Wandsworth Bridge.
"Do you remember, Ranny, the first time you ever saw me home, going over this bridge? What a moon there was!"
"I do. That was a moon," said Ranny.